Abasdarhon's Castle

— Oh, maybe my body doesn't process rice well? — Meilin sighed sadly from her bed, then hit herself on the forehead, as if she had just realized something important that she had overlooked. — Of course! An experimental potion! Brogritz gave me something yesterday for keeping him company over tea and being a good listener... He said its contents wouldn't harm me... Damn, it's a good thing I didn't drink another bottle of that stuff along with the intelligence potion...

— Good evening, — he greeted the young man. — Is this where I sign up? And can I get the details right away, or only from the client?

— A prepared and confident person has nothing to fear. Are you completely sure about your undertaking? Have you considered all possible difficulties? Then, of course, we are simply destined for success...
The irony in Quint's voice was almost perfectly hidden. Will the rich bastard notice it? It's interesting to know the limits of his stupidity.